"If you're an Elvis fan, no explanation is necessary; If
you're not an Elvis fan, no explanation is possible."

(George Klein)

Quote:

"For
a dead man, Elvis Presley is awfully noisy."

(Professor
Gilbert B. Rodman)

Quote:

"History
has him as this good old country boy, Elvis is about as country
as Bono!"

(Jerry
Schilling)

The
Tupelo-Memphis Murders: A Psychological Study of Self-Destruction
and Murder!

The
Tupelo-Memphis Murders: A Psychological Study of Self-destruction
and Murder! is one of the most sensational Elvis
books ever released.

Book
synopsis:The Tupelo-Memphis Murders: A Psychological
Profile of Self-Destruction and Murder! (ISBN
0-9756868-0-1) is (anonymously) written as a novel
which can be read on two levels.

The
narrative is fueled by a mix of the conspiracy theories present
in the "Elvis underground" and known facts about Elvis. No
where in the book are Elvis or other characters mentioned
by name but it is readily apparent to readers who the characters
are.

The
100+ page book is well written with controversial, conspiratorial
themes (murder, incest, secret FBI operations, Men in Black)
that confront and challenge our perceptions of the publicly
stated Elvis story.

Publication
of the book has already met with criticism and is sure to
divide fans. Fact or fiction?: you be the judge!

Life
is like a bowl of cherries - light red ones, blood red ones
and rotten decaying ones! They symbolize what can happen
in our worlds, from joy to sorrow, from unbridled passion
to abject despair. In between, most people go about their
mundane daily lives, making ends meet, and valiantly, but
usually in vain, hoping for the pot of gold at the end of
the rainbow. Like leeches sucking out the last drop of blood
from a victim, the inequitable distribution of power and
money in society rewards an effusive few at the expense
of many.

From
Part 2 - A Fairytale Begins? (1946):

The
woman viciously slammed the door and the boy could hear
what he dreaded, the slow turning of the metal key in the
lock that would imprison him in the dark, cavernous hole.
The last glimmer of light he saw, for now, was a brief reflection
off the pintle of the door. Once again resigned to his fate,
he could only sit and wait, shivering in the gloom and stench
of the unhospitable room. Around him he could hear the scurrying
of creatures, invisible in the dark. Within time the wretched
rodents, sensing and smelling his presence, would brush
over his legs and lick at his decaying wounds, intensifying
the already unbearable pain that racked his young body.

From
Part 6 - Paranoia in Vegas (1971):

“I’ll kill him! I’ll kill
the fuckin’ bastard!” The man’s anger was at boiling point,
seething forth in a wild, uncontrollable rage. Those around
him were totally unnerved. They had seen his temper tantrums
before, but never had they seen him frothing at the mouth
as he waved a loaded .38 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver
blindly in the air. It cut a swathe this way and that, putting
the fear of God into those in the room.

From
Part 9 - Assassination in Tennessee (August 1977): The
man slumped forward, a deep gasp escaping from his lungs.
His body hit the open suitcase and his head jerked to the
right. He tumbled off the suitcase toward the floor, as
it passed, his head making a sickening thud on the bedside
table and knocking several books to the floor. Dark red
blood spurted forth, flowing freely down the side of his
temples and forming a rising reservoir on the plush red
carpet that covered the floor.

In
an instant the mortal life of an Adonis like superstar had
been brutally extinguished. The body was prone, its life
force seemingly gone forever. And in a few moments, one
of the greatest cover-ups the world had ever known would
begin, creating a new, but different life, a life of mythological
proportions, of fact, fiction, half-truths, cruel deception
and downright lies!

From
Part 13 - Let the Conspiracy Begin (August 1977):

Colorful identities would “smile” and plot, the “cowboy”
would ride undercover, a “gale” would blow then disappear.
There would be a crossover plot, with “men in black” making
frightening, nocturnal visits on the unsuspecting and the
landscape would be cluttered with “victims” and un-winnable
polemic. Histrionics and abstract paranoia would (reign)… rain fire and brimstone like transparent meteors under the
perceptual awareness of a mainstream world.